


Stopping Time

by astrxd



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends to Lovers, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Modern AU, senior year! worries about college! worries about love! school dances!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrxd/pseuds/astrxd
Summary: For Hiccup, being with Astrid was easy -- that much was a product of just how long they've known each other. Senior year is drawing to a close, however, and with the end of high school comes tides of change that neither of them can even begin to anticipate. Between wrapping up the school year and finalizing their college plans, Hiccup also finds himself struggling with more-than-platonic feelings for his closest friend. Even though Astrid seems to reciprocate, romance is tough to manage when your whole world is on the brink of changing completely.He didn't want to be apart. He didn't want to be just friends. But he didn't want to hold her back.(Everything would be easier if time just stopped.)





	1. The Winter Formal (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! thank you for your interest in this story and series :-) before we jump in...
> 
> \- this debuted in june 2017. my writing may have changed since then, so later updates may feel different?? i don't know for sure, but it's a one-shot turned series, so i have a lot of fleshing out to do!  
> \- chapter 1 is also more centered on astrid and hiccup's (complicated) friendship being established with the audience!  
> \- in some coming chapters, i'll be addressing the gang with their canon names for the meantime, but for the sake of the modern AU, these will be their nicknames for each other! (i just haven't nailed down names for them yet, but they'll be noted when i do decide!)  
> \- i plan on exploring other aspects of this verse, from their college decisions, hiccup and astrid's relationship and any strain, prom, graduation, and senior night! (i had senior night at disneyland.... so i wanna write them in disneyland. heh)  
> \- comments, feedback, and kudos are greatly appreciated! <3

****Hiccup loved Friday nights, because Friday nights were his _Astrid Nights_. Basically, after winter break drew to a close, they quickly became the only time of the week where Hiccup could actually spend time with his (human) best friend.

But hey, he was willing to take what he could get.

They alternated both their location and their activities weekly – some evenings were movie marathons in his living room, and others were game night at her house, but they’ve recently consisted of Astrid being too exhausted to do anything other than curl up on his bed and half-consciously mumble everything else it was that she had to do during the weekend, all with Toothless curled up at her feet as he kneaded at her legs.

And, really – with three AP classes on her plate, alongside various other extra curricular activities weighing her down, Hiccup couldn’t blame her for needing the occasional night dedicated solely to catching up on sleep that he  _knows_ she skips out on from time to time. Plus, what kind of person wasn’t there for their best friend when said friend was prone to suffering from sleep deprivation-induced hysteria? He was certainly no superhero, but that was a task even he could accomplish.

“I should review the budget for the school dance,” he heard her say from behind him. The statement was punctuated with the groan of his mattress moving beneath her weight, but Hiccup was quick to swirl around in his seat to face her, his pencil pointed at her in an accusatory manner.  
  
“No, you should be  _resting_. It’s Friday, Astrid,” he implored her, waving the pencil in her direction in a manner that could just barely constitute as reprimanding. “The dance isn’t for another, what? Two weeks?”  
  
“It’s next Saturday, Hiccup,” she said, looking at him like he was crazy.

(Hiccup knew it was the upcoming weekend, though – of course he did. If it weren’t for Astrid’s involvement in all things school event related, he probably wouldn’t even  _know_ about the winter dance.)

The blonde swung her legs over the side of the bed, tipped her head back, and sighed, all while scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms. Toothless hadn’t shifted in the slightest. “It never  _ends_. I’m ready to physically  _and_ mentally implode, and it’s not even  _prom_ season. It’s just a winter formal.”   
  
Astrid seemed to cringe at the mention of prom season, and Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he silently admired the steely resolve of her features. But only after he recomposed himself.  
  
“How about this,” he proposed, tapping the end of his pencil against his chin in thought. “I help you budget the dance tonight, and you… You’ll…”   
  
A wicked grin tugged at his lips, and he did very little to suppress it. Why should he, when Astrid was obviously in desperate need of a break? Even if she wouldn’t directly admit that she was  _tired,_ such didn’t cancel out the fact that she  _definitely_ was exhausted.   
  
He could tell.  
  
It was in her eyes – the ones that started to lack the same vigor and life that shone in them when she was actually well-rested. It was in her shorter fuse, her almost constantly barely knitted brows, her stiff stature and posture. Hiccup was more than capable of noting all of these little details, even if the last time he got a chance to really  _look_ at her was last Friday, so he’d be damned before he just brushed it all off in favor of just enjoying her company.  
  
“What are you thinking?” Astrid queried cautiously, but Hiccup could easily hear the note of amusement in her tone as she leaned forward and crossed her ankles. A lock of blonde hair seemed out of place among her braid as it spilled from the crown of her head, and Hiccup had to refrain from standing up, crossing the room, and brushing it away from her face. He twirled his pencil as a distraction. “Not that I’m denying your help just yet, even though you’re not even in student council, but I’m… Curious.” Hiccup smiled, knowing that he had already managed to get her attention  _and_ , if all went well, a solid confirmation.   
  
“Well, uh, you could start by agreeing to sleep over tonight and–and maybe,  _actually_ sleep? For once?” He joked, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees.  
  
“You help me crunch numbers in exchange for me sleeping over?” Astrid said, almost incredulously.  
  
“You sound surprised.”  
  
“It’s just – you know, that’s not exactly very  _fair_. It seems like you’re just getting the short end of the stick,” she continued, pulling one of the bed’s pillows into her lap so that she could hug it and drop her chin onto it. Toothless, vying for attention, sat up to press his forehead against her arm, only to promptly receive generous pets. It’s not something to be jealous of, but it also  _is_. “Kind of a shitty deal, if you ask me.”  
  
“Well, what were you expecting? What did you want me to ask for, one of your legs?” Hiccup grinned as he quirked a brow at her, suddenly tapping his prosthetic against the carpet of his room. An unbidden – but no less amused – laugh left Astrid’s lips, and he watched as she tossed her head back.”It’s been awhile since you have, too. What’s the harm?”  
  
“Mm. You’re the worst,” she sighed, and Hiccup detected a note of fondness in her voice. She scooted over on the mattress and patted the vacated space. “Damn your persuasiveness. It’s a deal, though – but only if we’re ordering pizza.”  
  
“Who do you think I am? Someone who’d let a perfectly good, new pack of root beer to go to waste?” Hiccup snorted. He stood up and bridged the gap of space between them to sit beside Astrid, leaning against the pillows stacked against the headboard as Toothless shifts and makes himself comfortable in his lap, while the blonde retrieved a notebook and her laptop from her bag at the foot of the bed. She was quick to rejoin him, though, and soon enough, they were hip to hip… But looking at one another.  
  
Another one of her blinding smiles. His heart skipped a beat. He mentally cursed it for doing so, but it didn’t really help – not when it’s been doing that for  _at least_  the past few years of his life.  
  
“Alright, down to business, then. Let me run you through the supplies list, all the prices, and who needs to be reimbursed. Check my math?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
  
“Oh, and I rescind my previous statement, by the way. You’re the best again,” she said, handing him the pad of paper as she booted up her device. Hiccup scribbled with his pencil in a corner of the page.  
  
“Because I bought root beer and let you order pineapple on our pizza.” He responded, shaking his head.

“Well, yes, but also because you’re doing all this… For me. And it’ll only be on  _half_  of it, so don’t diss, Haddock.” She grinned at him, nudging him with her elbow. “You had all of middle school to back out of this friendship, so now you’re stuck with pineapple on our pizza.”  
  
“Duly noted. Maybe I just really like budgeting, though. Or– _or,_ or maybe I want to be an accountant. You don’t know my story,” Hiccup half-heartedly defended. The two of them shared another look there, silently watching one another…  
  
…Before simultaneously bursting into the briefest fit of laughter. The mood lapsed into something much more them; much more comfortable.   
  
Astrid leaned her head against his shoulder and Hiccup sighed silently; contently. He laughed – they both laughed – because it was beyond obvious that  _yes,_ Astrid actually  _did_ know his “story.” She knew practically everything about him.  
  
...Except for the fact that he’d been in love with her since they were in middle school. One of the many reasons why he hadn’t “backed out” of a friendship with her was because he had a strong feeling that it’d be the closest he’d ever get to knowing the girl of his dreams.  
  
So, yeah, she knew everything.

Everything except for that.

 

* * *

 

By the time midnight rolled around, the two of them ended up relocating to the living room downstairs. A nearly empty pizza box and several bottles of root beer were laying atop the coffee table in front of them. The winter formal had been successfully (re)budgeted and Astrid was making good on her end of the bargain – they were pajama-clad, seated on the sofa with blanket draped over the both of them, and had some movie playing on the TV. Toothless was perched comfortably on the cushions behind their backs and near their heads, sleeping soundly – yet again. He couldn’t think of anything that’d make the evening any better.

  
That is, not until Astrid yawned and let her head fall against his shoulder once more. A brief glance at the wall clock in the room revealed that midnight was, in all actuality, several hours ago, and a small smile tugged at Hiccup’s lips as he flipped his gaze toward her. He lifted his arm to accommodate for her frame, which was automatically slotted against his own within moments. She then slumped against him, so Hiccup looped an arm around her shoulders, further drawing her into his side.  
  
“Hey,” she mumbled, though her voice was slightly muffled by the fabric of his sweater as she buried her face in his shoulder. That, and it seemed to be slightly tinged with drowsiness.  
  
“Hi,” was Hiccup’s only response, but half of it was a laugh. Astrid briefly pulled away to send him scalding look, but her expression was quick to soften as she nestled back against his side.  
  
“Thanks. For today.”  
  
“I hardly–”  
  
He was promptly interrupted by a tight hug. Astrid’s arms were looped around his middle and she was practically sitting on top of him at that point, with her legs swung over his lap. Not that he minded – in fact, he was more than happy to snugly secure the blanket they’d been sharing around her shoulders as she started up again. Cuddling – platonic cuddling. It was a common thing, especially between them.  
  
“Yes, you did. So shut it.”   
  
“I–”  
  
“Nope, shut up.”  
  
Hiccup… Hiccup only smiled. It was a small tilt of his lips as he regarded her, but it was a smile all the same. Fond, gentle,  _genuine_. Astrid shifted a moment later, and he found himself staring back into inquisitive blue eyes.  
  
“…What?” Hiccup just barely furrowed his brow.  
  
“You stopped talking.”  
  
“ _You_ told me to shut up.”  
  
“I didn’t mean  _shut up_ ,” Astrid snorted, suddenly appeased, if the way she curled up against him again and re-tucked her head beneath his chin was any indication. A quiet, contented sigh seemed to leave her lips. “God, I really needed tonight. Between dance committee and track season starting and  _school_ and  _life,_ it almost feels like I’ve hardly gotten to see you.”

“I mean, there’s before school, lunch, after school–”

Astrid sat up a little then, if only to stare at him quizzically. Her expression became somber.

“I get to school an hour before you for student gov meetings, I spend my lunches catching up on homework, and I have conditioning nearly every day after school.” The tone of her voice was almost grave and it held a note of sheepish apology.

Alright, fine. So, yeah – Hiccup  _had_ noticed a distinct lack of Astrid in his life over the past few weeks. Friday nights proved to be the only times he really got to see her, because passing periods simply didn’t cut it. While Hiccup wholeheartedly understood Astrid’s reasons for having been so absent, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a little – or, okay, maybe more than a little – upset with the fact that he hasn’t been able to share some of her time with her. Hiccup knew wanting to monopolize it entirely was just childish, but he, at the very least, wanted to  _see_ her from time to time.

The thing was, when he did get those chances, he felt bad for taking her away from most likely more important things she could be doing. And that, in and of itself, was a terrible feeling.

“…Okay, valid point. I don’t mind, though. I get it: you’re busy. You can’t help it.”

Astrid frowned. “I just wish time would stop.”

“Well, we  _do_  have right now.”

“It’s past midnight.”  
  
“Stay for breakfast, then?” It wasn’t an outlandish request, surely. Not only would it give them some time together, but Astrid’s spent the night at his house so many times that some of her clothes and a toothbrush took residence in a drawer of his upstairs – in fact, even the pajamas she currently wore had been neatly folded and placed into said drawer. Their lives in general were so  _deeply_ integrated with one another’s that anyone who didn’t know that they’d known each other since middle school would think that they were dating.  
  
…Heck, people who  _did_ know them  _still_ thought that they were dating. The only thing that crushed him a little was how prompt Astrid was about shutting those people – and rumors – down when they arose. As if the very idea of them ever getting together was ridiculous and inane.  
  
Well, at least he could dream... But  _boy_ , did he  _dream_.  
  
Dream of evenings, just like this, only where he could punctuate his sentences with kisses and have the liberty to blurt out those thoughts of how beautiful he thought she was. 

“Maybe,” she hummed in response, drawing him out of his thoughts. “We can try doing pancake art again. Even though we both know how  _that_ ended up last time around.”

“It was supposed to be a  _whale–”_

“–Ohoh, yeah, a  _sperm_  whale! That thing would have been perfect for middle school sex-ed classes.” She laughed, and Hiccup threw his head back in mock exasperation at the joke. He was pleased to find that the mood of their earlier conversation, the one that bordered just barely opening the can of worms he’d been avoiding, had shifted entirely, and lapsed into something much more casual.

“It looked–it was fine! It was just, just the flipping part that ended up distorting the picture, okay?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Hicc.”

He didn’t mean to think out loud… But he ended up thinking out loud anyway.

“…Yeah, well, you’re right here, so.”

And he swore that Astrid hugged him a little tighter.  
  
It wasn’t very long before her breathing slowed altogether. There was a distinct sense of comfort that came with being this close to her. It was in the warmth of her person; it was in the slight part of her lips and the thick lashes catching the light of the changing frames of the TV, casting dim shadows across her cheeks. When it came to Astrid, Hiccup was awfully observant, but that much was probably a given. It was impossible for him  _not_ to be – not with the way she made it so… 

So easy.   
  
Easy to laugh with her, to stare at her, to admire her.   
  
Now it was his turn to sigh. Craning his neck, Hiccup pressed a light kiss to her forehead – that’s as platonic as kisses could get – before mumbling words of how pretty and peaceful she was when she slept. She never failed to shock him with how  _effortlessly_ she accomplished perfection, but what shocked him even more was that (even if it were just as her best friend) someone like him was privileged enough to cradle her in his arms like this.   
  
Another moment was spent with half lidded eyes, looking fondly upon the Hofferson…

A meow made his head jerk to the side, where he found himself looking right into milky green eyes. It wasn’t odd to be eye level with Toothless, but Hiccup wasn’t the biggest fan of the look the cat was giving him.

“Oh, quiet,” he sighed, casting a lukewarm glare at the black feline that gave him a disturbingly  _knowing_ look. It wasn’t until Toothless set his head down that he felt a little more at peace… Even though he  _did_ end up lifting a hand to scratch the underside of his cat’s chin.

Toothless purred contently, Astrid breathed deeply… And he dreamed, about the same things and in the same way he did for as long as he could remember. 

 

* * *

 

 When Hiccup woke up, he found himself properly laying down on the sofa with his arms around a pillow. Though he hadn’t remembered taking it off, his prosthetic was propped up against the foot of the couch, and several blankets that he didn’t remember bringing downstairs were draped over his person.

On top of all of that, though, Hiccup woke up to a distinct lack of Astrid Hofferson.

And also a distinct lack of  _Toothless._

Not willing to stand for it (and also unable to stand for it, because he had yet to reattach his leg), Hiccup shook off the remaining wisps of sleepiness clouding his brain with a languid stretch. Thankfully, his father had invested in quite the comfortable sofa, so the pop of his spine was rather minimal. Nonetheless, by the time he had tossed aside the blankets and strapped on his prosthetic, Hiccup had registered the state of the coffee table.

Spotless. No pizza box, not a single crumpled napkin, no empty bottles.

Not at all perplexed by these revelations, Hiccup yawned and carded a hand through his hair, already well aware of who was behind all of the  _shenanigans_. A brief thought pondering what he had done to deserve a person like Astrid in his life crossed his slightly drowsy mind, but it was fleeting, mostly because he was also wondering just what time it was.

The kitchen wasn’t far from the living room in the Haddock household. The size of the house was strikingly significant, but just beyond the actual dining room (otherwise known as the home of the all-too grand table that was much too massive for Hiccup and his father to use on a daily basis, and was instead reserved for special occasions) was the entryway to the kitchen, where Hiccup was certain he would find Astrid and Toothless.

His hunch proved to be correct, too. When he rounded the corner of the kitchen entrance, he leaned his shoulder against the archway outlining it, only to find Toothless perched on a corner of the island table, with Astrid humming along to the stereo on one of the counters as she stirred the contents of a bowl. Based upon the materials set out before her – eggs, milk, flour, sugar, and the likes – Hiccup could only assume that she was making pancake batter.

The slightest of smiles pulled at his lips as he watched her concentrate on then transferring the batter to squeeze bottles they had hidden away from their last attempt to make pancakes. There was a slight furrow to her brow, but with every passing second, Hiccup found his heartbeats grow increasingly more spread out.

The entire thing was terribly domestic, but if Hiccup didn’t know a domestic Astrid, then  _nobody_ did. He had yet to summon his voice and make his appearance known, but it wasn’t long before Toothless picked up on his presence and decided to meow as an announcement. That had garnered Astrid’s attention, causing her to look up at him while drawing a jokingly offended scoff (and a broad grin) from Hiccup as he crossed the rest of the room. He passed by Toothless’ stainless steel dish at the foot of the island counter, only to find remnants of food that was previously not there.

“Traitor,” he addressed the feline, shaking his head. “Thanks for blowing my cover.” Even then, he said it with a smile, but the cat expressed his pointed indifference by licking his paw. That, of course, didn’t stop Hiccup from both claiming the space beside Astrid and starting to run his hand over Toothless’ back.

“Well, good morning to you, Sleeping Beauty,” Astrid quipped, smiling wryly. “I already took care of his breakfast, but ours–” She gestured to the bowl in front of her. “–still needs to be finished up. Wanna take care of the rest while I clean up?”

It wasn’t so much of a question, and was more of a… Rhetorical request. One that Hiccup didn’t hesitate to fulfill, either. While he went about retrieving a pan and a spatula, Astrid started putting things away – and, really, the fact that she knew where everything was and where it all belonged was nothing short of astonishing. Granted, time and time again in the same kitchen would probably instill such things into her memory, but still.

As Hiccup poured a circle of batter onto the now-heated pan on the stove, though, Astrid seemed to stare blankly into the contents of the fridge.

“…Hey,” she started, slowly. Hiccup glanced up at the sound of her voice, but his attention was quick to drop back to the buttered pan heating up on the range. He thought little of it – because, if anything, she was just going to question the whereabouts of another thing in the fridge, or something, right? It made sense, and it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Maybe she needed to find the orange juice, or the strawberries or something.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

…Nope, not about strawberries. Something slammed into his chest like a truck and he tried really, really hard to keep looking down at the pan because something about the tone of her voice was worrying. “Oh-kay. Are you gonna tell me then, or what?”  
  
Astrid heaved a sigh and made her way over to him and leaned over the stove to turn off the heat. He was forced to face her properly, and the apprehension on her face did nothing to ease his nerves.  
  
Was it possible to best-friend break up with someone? Was that what was going to happen? Hiccup opened his mouth to speak–  
  
“Before I caught up with you yesterday after school… I kinda-sorta got asked to the winter formal,” Astrid blurted, looking a little flustered. And she  _rarely_ ever got  _flustered._ When she started to tug at her hair, Hiccup knew this was a big deal.  
  
…Ouch. He could already tell: she got asked, and she said yes.  
  
Hiccup didn’t really  _do_ school dances – or dancing in general. The only reason he ever went to school events was because Astrid usually poured her heart into a handful of them. Since freshman year’s homecoming, the two of them attended every dance together, including junior prom the previous year. And never because Hiccup managed to ever get his act together and ask her properly. It was always just… An unspoken agreement. He picked her up, they headed to the school gym, then hung out afterwards. Nothing else to it.  
And that was where the problem was, he soon learned.  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her, pretending not to be as deflated as he was. “Is this a, a bad thing? You said yes, didn’t you?”  
  
“No! God, no,” Astrid assured him immediately, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. Her fervent denial was more comforting than he’d like to admit. “I can’t believe you’d think I’d consider going with someone who’s not you.”  
  
“Oh,” he said – really lamely. “So, um, why are you…?”  
  
“It was just, it was kind of the first time anyone’s ever  _done_ something like that. There were flowers, and people holding signs, and it was such a surprise that I didn’t know what to say,” she prattled on, eyes elsewhere. Hiccup didn’t blame her. “It made me realize how not-normal my high school dance experiences have been And this is the last one before senior prom.”  
  
Yikes.  
  
That was his fault, wasn’t it? Hiccup visibly winced, but Astrid was quick to reach out and set a hand on his arm. She always was a step ahead of him.  
  
“ _No,_ Hiccup, I don’t regret turning him down. I was just,  _thinking_ that maybe–”  
  
“Maybe?” He said, and it was such an undignified little squeak of a noise that he feels like his voice was going through puberty again.  
  
“Maybe we can make this one – this dance – you know… Different. Or, more regular, I guess? Different for us, but the same as the rest of the school, or something.”  
  
He blinked blankly at her, obviously not following. Astrid sighed and shook her head, but something told him that she already anticipated needing to spell this all out for him.

“Well, for starters, maybe we could actually… Dance?”   
  
Now  _that_  was uncharted territory. Hiccup didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t have to – not when Astrid was, once again, thinking ahead. She held out her hands and he carefully placed them in her palms. Her hands were small, but by no means dainty. Astrid guided one of them to rest just beneath her shoulder blade and he suddenly realized how much taller than her he has gotten over the years. Hiccup tried not to swallow thickly as she set her hand on his shoulder and adjusted the grip of the one still holding his... So that he was the one doing more of the holding.   
  
“Okay?” She asked, and he managed to nod. She brightened a little.  
  
Astrid wordlessly guided them in what he assumed to be some simple ballroom dance that he never bothered to learn, all in their little pocket of space that was the Haddock household kitchen. He kept his eyes on their feet as he tried desperately not to squish her socked toes with every step he took.  
  
…Or, more specifically, his eyes clung to his false foot. He was pretty sure that Astrid quickly realized this, because minutes later (even though minutes had started to feel like hours – not that he was complaining), the hand on his shoulder was gone–  
  
–And was instead placed on his cheek. Hiccup looked up so quickly, he nearly got whiplash. Astrid was… Stunning. She was always stunning, but looking at him – only at him – allowed him to appreciate the icy blue of her eyes closer than ever before.  
  
He didn’t realize it, but the space between them was now nonexistent. And, for once, neither of them were half asleep. She bit her lip, and  _God,_ he’d much rather be the one doing so – which was exactly why he nearly fell over when she spoke up again.  
  
“…Would it be weird if we kissed?”  
  
He tried to say something clever – something like ‘not weird, just different’ or ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ Instead? Instead, Hiccup just barely managed to nod.

…

Her lips touched his, and time stopped.


	2. The Winter Formal (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as requested (like a really long time ago oOPS I'M SO SORRY), the events of the formal! i think the next part will be the diner aftermath. 
> 
> jonas brothers still go hard and y'all can @ me
> 
> (honestly??? this chapter is like 5k words of rambling but i hope you enjoy it anyway <3)

One of the most awkward things a person could do was dance with a bunch of people who knew every word to a song that they  _didn’t_ know. Somehow, this didn’t stop Astrid Hofferson from humming and moving along to the beat of whatever was blaring through the speakers set up in the gym, but that didn’t come as a surprise to Hiccup. Astrid turned everything into her own and made it work for her; that was just who she was.

There were a bunch of other awkward things people could be, though -- they could be at a school dance, of all events. They could be at a high school dance with their best friend, who they’ve been head over heels with for longer than they could remember because all of the days have blurred into weeks and weeks have blurred into months and now it’s been  _years_ of withering inside with every smile said best friend gave them.   
  
They could be at a loss for what to do, too, because their best friend-slash-crush kissed them only one week ago, was their date for the night, and wanted to dance.

And they couldn’t dance.

“They” was obviously Hiccup. It was the winter formal, he was with Astrid, he was pretty sure that he loved her, she was dancing, and he  _couldn’t._ This meant that he was awkwardly standing there, one of the four points in the misshapen ring (square) that part of their very strange group of friends had loosely made.   
  
The twins were off doing who-knew-what (probably harassing the DJ into letting them emcee), leaving Astrid and Snotlout to laugh and swing to the music (okay, it was more along the lines of Astrid laughing while Snotlout got extra-invested in the new song -- wait, were they fighting? They were yelling at each o--oh, nope, it was song lyrics) while Hiccup and Fishlegs--

Well, the two of them were standing.

Just, standing. Not even talking, because there wasn’t really a point in trying when the music was so loud that Hiccup could hardly hear himself think. It was fine, though. He was distracted. Hiccup was just a little too mesmerized, a little too smitten, and a little too  _relieved_  by the sight of Astrid finally letting her hair down after an entire month and a half -- and then some -- of trying not to rip it out. Plus, Astrid and Snotlout, singing and dancing? What a sight. They still managed to make it seem like a competition.  
  
(Granted, Hollaback Girl made that pretty easy on them. Everyone knew that one. Astrid really got into Snotlout’s face when she told him that she’s heard that he was talking shit and didn’t think that she would hear it -- and he looked genuinely offended.)

Her hair was down, both metaphorically  _and_ literally -- Astrid was not only very clearly enjoying herself, but her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She looked happy, and happiness was a good look on her. She’d been intensely stressed about planning this dance and last week had been by far the most brutal; she spent lunches pouring over documents and typing away at her laptop, her head was ducked over some notes in the hallways during every passing period, and Hiccup had to drag her out of the library after school so that she could come over, eat something, and not run herself into the ground.

This was where they were so similar, he’s long realized. When either of them engaged a project, they were determined to see it through -- and, incidentally, both tended to forget about everything else important. If blinking wasn’t an autonomic bodily function, he was pretty sure that they’d have to remind each other to do that, too.

But now, if he tried to describe her, “stunning” would be an awful understatement. Hiccup had put on a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie (and actually attempted to brush his untameable mop of auburn hair), which was already much more effort than he’s used to -- but Astrid? There was something brighter in her eyes.

He figured that the only time he’s ever really seen her this enthusiastic was during game night in the middle of an intense match of MarioKart or Settlers of Catan (when she was winning, which was usually), but maybe that’s just because he hasn’t paid this much attention to her until now? It felt a little unlikely, given the fact that he  _always_  paid attention to her, but at the moment, he felt like he could observe her and not be judged.   
  
He knew that their friends would tease him anyway, but what was important was that Astrid didn’t seem to find it all that weird. She would catch him smiling at her and she’d smile back, and though she held out her hands and wordlessly beckoned him to join her a few times (this shit is  _bananas, B-A-N-A--_ ), he shook his head and kept his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks.

School dances sucked, but Astrid put a lot of effort into planning them. If not for Snotlout, he was certain that he’d have to hold her back and keep her from running around the gym to make sure that the lobby concessions were still stocked with candy and chips, that the DJ was adhering to the playlist dance committee meticulously combed through and not letting the twins anywhere near the mic, that the photo booth props were all accounted for… That kind of thing. Astrid was a planner, a busybody, and a perfectionist crossed with a people-pleaser.

During the transition in songs, Hiccup’s silent excuse stopped working. Snotlout came over and clapped his hand on Fishleg’s shoulder, claiming that they were going to find the twins and make sure that they didn’t scare off this DJ too (yes, too -- it happened once during Homecoming last semester) because Astrid promised him a milkshake after the dance if he could give her a window to pull Hiccup aside. The two walk off, leaving Astrid with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose because “he wasn’t supposed to mention the bribe, the moron!”

“You didn’t have to bribe him if you wanted to talk,” Hiccup laughed. Unfortunately, it’s once again hard to hear now that Michael Jackson was bouncing off of the gym walls (he’s never felt so attacked by PYT before).

Astrid gave him a funny look and edged closer, hand around her ear. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Hiccup responded, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes at him, obviously unsatisfied, but let it drop in favor of catching his wrist and leading him towards the back doors that lead to the pool outside. He remembered Astrid’s rant about advocating to use the cement deck as a cool down space, even in spite of the risks attached to having the pool open to a bunch of high school students. He’s glad to know that her position pulled through, and not just because the chilly, end-of-winter air was a refreshing shift from the stuffy gym.

There were people on the bleachers on one side of the pool, talking and eating; there were people at some collapsible tables; there were people taking pictures against a wall. Hiccup flushed when he looked around and noticed that, save for a couple of clusters, most of the people outside were pairs.

Couples.

Astrid hadn’t let go of his hand, even after they took a seat at a far end of the stands.

The problem on the table was the fact that they haven’t ironed out what exactly was happening between them. Hiccup was desperate for answers, sure, but… Dropping a “hey, wait -- so what are we?” bomb while she was crunching for the dance didn’t seem fair. Astrid didn’t need that on her plate, especially because for all he knew, that kiss? The one he hasn’t been able to get off his mind for the past week? It could have been just a heat of the moment thing, something where Astrid was just suddenly struck with the idea.

His main reasoning for not wanting to look deeper into it was that he didn’t want to get his hopes up, let alone make Astrid uncomfortable around him. Before all else, he wanted to be her friend, and that’s exactly what’s been happening -- they carried on with their days as they usually did. The same arm touches and elbow digs, the same old song and the same old tune. It was comfortable, yeah, but he just…

After their kiss in his kitchen, Hiccup panicked and mumbled something about burning pancakes… Even though Astrid had turned off the gas.

To make matters worse, he realized shortly afterward that he  _nodded_ in response to her question, “would it be weird if we kissed,” instead of shaking his head. They still kissed, yeah, but he -- he agreed and he stumbled over his words and didn’t correct himself afterwards and--

(Say something, say something, say something--)

“Hey, you guys did a good job with decorating,” he submitted, after his lengthy silence. He looked around at the fairy lights strung up around the tall fencing and the crepe streamers twisted and draped around. Astrid snorted.

“Yeah, well, the reality of themed school dances is that you’re basically working with balloons, streamers, and tape,” she lamented, albeit with a smile. The theme of the dance was Fire and Ice. Simple, kind of corny, but easy to decorate for under a budget. He noticed that, almost too appropriately, Hiccup’s tie was a warm red and Astrid’s dress was a soft blue.

“You made it work,” he assured her, nudging his elbow into her side. Astrid knocked her knee into his for good measure. “You always do. The balloon arch turned out great.”

“String. I forgot to mention lots of string,” she added, eyes turning towards the sky. The stars were out, the moon was full, her eyes were reflecting all of the light… Hiccup found himself tracing the contour of her nose and upturned lips and lifted chin; he watched her blink slowly and breathe deeply. How could he describe the kind of happiness that came from seeing somebody else happy? What was the word for that?   
  
Astrid certainly looked happy, at least. She was the picture of contentedness, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Hiccup smiled at the way that she wrinkled her expression while she swept some wind-misplaced hair out of her face--

“...Ugh. I’m not used to having my hair down -- er, this much hair down, at least. It’s almost kind of annoying. Does it look funny? I left a braid in last night, and parents gave me biased opinions, so you better not do the same and… Hey. Hey, Hiccup? Are you okay?”

He snapped back to reality when her hand waved in front of him. He flushed, knowing by the smile on her lips (stop looking at her lips!!) that he had been staring at her, but he didn’t know for how long and -- shit, he didn’t even know what she was saying--

“Yes,” he blurted, hoping to save face, but it sounded too definitive. He tried again. “I mean. Uh. Yes? Yeah. Or no? No. Yes or no, whichever answer you wanted to hear.” Astrid wasn’t offended, thankfully; she only tossed her head back and laughed while Hiccup huffed (half-heartedly) at her in response. “Shut up.”

“Careful there, you almost sound like Snot,” she warned with a grin. She also, however, scooted closer towards him, enough so that their knees were touching. He tried to press his lips together and suppress his own smile, and it worked, just until Astrid seized his hand a second time. “Pouty, pouty. It’s okay, I’m glad you think I’m pretty.”

“I… Didn’t say you were pretty,” he said, perplexed. Or did he? Was he thinking out loud? He’d compared her eyes to starlight in his head, did he actually say that? That was so  _lame._  No wonder she was laughing.

Astrid threaded their fingers and held his hand in her lap. She closed her other hand over their joined ones and issued a gentle squeeze. “Oh, you didn’t have to. You were staring.” She mock gasps, obviously feigning offense. “Wow. Unless you don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Why? Do you care?” Hiccup snorted. He’s back on his feet, thanks to the bone she threw him. An opportunity for some dry remark was always a chance to dig himself out of the holes he lands himself in.

“Mmm… Maybe a little. Not much, though.”

“So my opinion doesn’t matter?”

“Not unless you’re right.”

“As a senior in high school, I would hope that you know the definition of  _opinion,_  Az.”

“You mean ‘Az’ a senior in high school?”

(He groaned, she laughed.)

“You are, without a doubt, the absolute--”

“Best?”

“No, worst. You’re the worst.”

“Well, now that’s just an incorrect opinion. Try again.”

They go back and forth like that for some time, comfortable in their banter about everything and nothing. At some point, and he didn’t know when, they had edged so much closer together that their hips were bumping and her arm was tucked under his, their hands still laced. His breath caught in his throat when she dropped her head against his shoulder. This was the dance that they’ve been doing for the past week: fleeting moments of lingering smiles and touches that felt too intimate to be platonic, but too unspoken to be romantic.

“You know,” he started, “the dance you planned is inside and you’re missing all of it.”

“That’s fine. Being out here is nice,” she mused. He tried to turn his head to look at her, but with how she’s leaning into him, it’s a little tough. Instead, he chose to let go of her hand and lift his arm, only to wrap it around her shoulders. Hiccup moved slowly, cautious of doing something that she didn’t want. An arm around her shoulder was harmless enough, but still. To his surprise, and much to his happiness, she just tucked herself against him a little better.

“You also have goosebumps,” Hiccup observed. Astrid waved it off.

“You’re warm, so it’s okay,” she insisted. He almost wished that he brought a jacket, if only for the sake of being able to give it to her, but it felt like a little too formal for winter formal. “I do have a question, though.”

Hiccup’s heart did some weird skip in his chest. Was it about the kiss? Was she going to let him down? His breath seized in his throat.

“Shoot,” he managed, voice involuntarily tight. Ah. He cleared his throat and tried a second time. “Shoot.”

She seemed to lift her head enough to look at him, likely suspicious of what just happened with his ever-unreliable vocal chords, but she settled back in moments. “I was just wondering… Well, you know. We’re almost done here.”

(His throat felt even drier. This was bad.)

“Technically, that’s not a question.” A shoddy attempt at making light of the situation? Coming from him? It was more likely than one might think.

Astrid reached up and pinched the back of his hand, but it was more akin to a harmless pluck of her nails. “Fine, Mr. Technicalities, here’s a question: are you worried?”

“About?”

“You know what about.  _Everything_.”

“That’s...” He whistled lowly. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I know, I know, I just -- this is it. We’re in the final stretch. Applications are in, acceptances roll out in less than a month. We’re about to make decisions that people keep saying will route the course of our lives--”

“Senioritis is rapidly claiming more and more victims,” he submitted. Astrid was being solemn, however, and he caught wind of her seriousness when she leans away to look up at him. The valley of her brow is wrinkled and her lips are pursed and Hiccup heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m -- yeah, I’m worried. Everything is about to--”

“--Change.” She reached across her body to his hand, the one that was on her shoulder, and once she was holding it, she moved it over her head so that their laced fingers were between them. “I know. I think I’ve been freaking out about making tonight -- the dance --  _perfect_ because I don’t have control over anything else right now.”

Hiccup watched her worry her lip. She stared at the aqua waters, she passed nervous fingers over his knuckles with her other hand. This was very Astrid, worrying about making sure things go the way she plans. Constantly, she was working hard to make her future the one she wants it to be; she made her own plans, no matter what the stars had scripted for her. He felt his chest go tight, just thinking about how much of a toll this has been taking on her. He wondered how much of her fears about the future he’s written off as anxiety about tonight.

It wasn’t like he was worry-free himself, though. Truthfully? He was terrified of what was just dead ahead, looming, leering. Waiting to slap them across the face, basically.

After a pause, after a breath, Hiccup let his shoulders sag with an exhale. “At the very least, no matter what happens next, and no matter how much spins out of your control, there’s always this.” He squeezed her hand for good measure.

He’s pretty sure that that was what she was really worried about --  _them._ She had perfect attendance, perfect grades, fantastic test scores, she was a tri-athlete, active in a trillion clubs; there was no reason for her to worry about getting into her top schools. Through and through, she was perfect, from her headstrong personality and unwavering heart. She was everything he could ever want.

(Uh -- a college. Everything  _a college_ could ever want.)

She wet her lips, casted her gaze down to their hands. “How sure are you?”

Hiccup winced, because it just, he just, he wasn’t sure -- he couldn’t be. He could trust their friendship to the ends of the earth, which he already did, but the unknown challenges of college? The quote-unquote, “real world”? All throughout high school, they’ve been harped at about securing their futures and about how slacking in high school wouldn’t prepare them for college because it was just so much more intense. It was supposed to be leagues more difficult, leagues more demanding--

Was he ready? Were  _they_  ready? Their worlds were going to be completely uprooted. No more Friday nights, no more study sessions, no more morning coffee runs or… Or anything. For all he knew, by the end of August, they’d end up with a country between them -- maybe even an ocean.

He swallowed hard. Something that he hated, much more than the pressure of trying to figure out what they want to do with their rest of their lives, was the idea of being apart. But even more than that? He loathed the idea of Astrid feeling the same way and choosing to settle.

“I’m...” He shook his head and struggled for an answer. “I don’t know. I just feel like we could run into each other on some sidewalk ten, twenty years from now and catch up like we hadn’t spent a day apart.”

“Hiccup.” The stern evenness of her tone was slightly alarming.

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t talk to me for ten --  _twenty years,”_ she warned, tightening her grip on his hand, “I would hunt you down and take you out with a plastic spork and two rubber bands.”

His response rolled off of his tongue before he properly registered it in his head. “Gee. That sounds like a great date.”

A silence settled between them right after his remark. That had to be one of the most uncomfortable things ever. Hiccup summoned his voice and his courage.

“Astrid,” he said, “listen. I meant that like… No matter what happens next, no matter how far apart we end up or how busy we get, I’ll always be around. The reality of the situation is that things might not go our way, if we even know what ‘our way’ looks like, but up until we figure it out, we’ll be together.”

...That’s what he  _wanted_ to say, or at least something to that effect. Instead, Hiccup bit his lip and steeled his nerves and asked--

“Do you want to dance?”  
  


* * *

 

It probably wasn’t a great idea to leave their conversation on that note, especially because it was a talk that they’ve both been steering clear of. College, the future -- them. Astrid didn’t seem keen on it, but she had brightened a little and accepted. Hand in hand, they silently skirted back into the gym.

Once they were back inside, Astrid left him at the corner of the bleachers by the pool doors to put a request in with the DJ. He picked at his fingers and glanced around for both Fishlegs and Astrid while he waited, but when she returned, she came back with her fingers to her temples.

“You’ll never guess,” she gritted out, “who was at the DJ booth.”

“Oh,  _boy_. Was it, perhaps, not the DJ?”

She gave him a wilting smile, but beyond that, she didn’t seem to let it bother her further. He figured that the twins were bound to get through with their hijinks eventually, given their… Rather  _uncanny_  historical success rate with all of their pranks. He was expecting this to happen, which meant that he was also expecting the twins’ very specific brand of comedic commentary--

Oh,  _no._

“--yes, it’s on. Hello--?” The sound system shrieked in response to the couple of muffled taps Tuffnut delivered to a microphone. Astrid visibly cringed and squeezed Hiccup’s arm and he knows that she’s worried about having to compensate the hired DJ for replacement equipment. “Ack--Ruffnut, stop--I’ve  _got it_ \--okay. Okay, okay! This one's for Hickey and Azzy!” Tuffnut’s voice pierced through the speakers, immediately after the feedback stopped echoing and the crowd stopped grumbling and groaning. “Astrid asked me to play some other song, but I’m making an executive decision to play When You Look Me in the Eyes by the JoBros because, honestly?”

“The JoBros go  _haaard,”_ Ruffnut drawled, having snatched the mic, and threw a fist in the air. Tuffnut relinquished it, but still leaned in--

“And also because we couldn’t hear what you said. Whoops. Sorry, Astrid.”

“Hit that track DJ! And by DJ, I mean me. And Tuff, I guess. If you haven’t noticed, we’ve usurped the DJ booth again, folks.”

“Wait, while this is on. Hiccup, my man, you gotta kiss her first, okay? I’ve got money on you. Actually, I think a third of the school does, but only a third, and that’s just ‘cause Astrid is Astrid and--”

Hiccup leaned over to Astrid, floored. “The  _school_ \--?” How many people knew about this? How many people actually  _cared_ about this?

“Could you just play the frickin’ song already?” Snotlout (Hiccup thought it was him, at least) shouted over the choruses of laughter and whistles. He heard people yelling their names, egging them on.

“We’ll be here all night!”

“And at prom! You haven’t seen the last of--“

“ _Just put the music back on!”_

It was awesome. Fantastic. Absolutely  _superb._  Hiccup was thrilled about being called out like this, if thrilled suddenly became a synonym for completely and utterly mortified. It was exactly what they needed, to have the eyes of a good majority of their student body searching for the two of them in the dark after they left their last conversation on a cliff. Their whole group had plans to stick around after the end of the dance so that they could help Astrid and the dance committee clean up faster, then they’d cram into a booth at their usual haunt, a local diner, for food.

He risked turning to Astrid so that he could see her reaction to all of this, but the lights didn’t do him any favors. Hiccup supposed that it’d be for the better, but seeing as they would all be hanging out later? He figured that it was up to him to prevent a double murder attempt.

(Well, not attempt -- Astrid, with enough dedication, could succeed in anything.)

“That’s… Great,” he grumbled, bright red, “all we need is a spotlight.” If it were any brighter, he would be able to tell if Astrid was blushing or not, but it’s fine -- if he couldn’t tell if she was, then she probably couldn’t tell if he was, right?

...Right?

“Don’t say that, you might speak it into existence,” Astrid replied evenly. Evidently, she wasn’t too happy about being called out like this either. Nobody would be.

Even so, it was almost simultaneously that they reached for each other’s hands. She held tight as they exchanged glances and caught the eyes of some of their peers; seniors and juniors and sophomores, even freshman -- Hiccup pinned it on how prolific Astrid was around campus. (He wondered, who  _didn’t_ have a crush on Astrid Hofferson? Was that even possible? That was probably why everybody was curious. Everybody likely wished that they were him.)

(Not really; they just wished they were the one dancing with her. Astrid had other suitors, and with the fact that somebody else tried to ask her to the dance…)

_If the heart is always searching, can you ever find a home?_

The vocals of the song started while they were still beside the bleachers and most other couples have claimed the dance area while… Everybody else, everyone who lacked a partner, shuffled off to the pool deck or the lobby or to the edges of the gym. Hiccup, however, reeled at the fact that Ruff and Tuff may have picked a song that was much too close to home. How bad could it be? It was only the Jonas Brothers, he thought--

“Ignore them,” she huffs, “it’s fine.”

\--He was yanked from his thoughts in a sudden blaze of Astrid-patented confidence, almost literally. With bold strides, she lead them through throngs of swaying couples to the center floor. Her hand released his in favor of settling on his shoulders. Hiccup looked everywhere but at her face, catching a few sets eyes quickly darting away and down at their feet, as he settled his own on either side of her waist.

He could do this. Easy. It was just this, kind of, sorta, type of swaying -- which was much simpler than the one-two step waltz they tried to do in his kitchen.

_I’ve been looking for that someone--_

Astrid cleared her throat. Her hands moved down from his shoulders and to the square of his chest, though her fingers only started adjusting his tie. Hiccup noticed just how much extra height her heels gave her, though he still had a couple of inches on top, and if he looked up, they’d almost be at eye level.

_I’ll never make it on my own--_

Hiccup watched her straighten it out and tighten the knot. Ducking his head was a bad habit of his, especially when he was this  _nervous_ because the privacy of a kitchen and a cat was leagues apart from a school dance.

_Dreams can’t take the place of loving you, there’s gotta be a million reasons why it’s true--_

His throat felt scratchy as her hands found his shoulders again. Hiccup looked up to snort a ‘thank you,’ of sorts, because the gesture was unnecessary but awfully sweet--

But when she looks him in the eyes?

...She smiled, he smiled. Hiccup forgot about the pressures of the rest of the world, not to mention the rest of the people in the gym, by just looking at her. He could only hope that she felt the same, or was at least beginning to.

“So, uh, the -- the Jonas Brothers. This is… Wow, huh?”

“Oh, I’m going to kill them,” she hummed, squinting over his shoulder at the DJ booth.

“Really? But they’ve been planning their senior prank for months. They’re so close and I’m actually kind of interested in seeing what they’ve got.”

“God, please don’t remind me.”

Hiccup chuckled and, with an abrupt burst of courage, he decided to take away that reminder -- instead, he’d distract her. He took one of her hands in his and gave her a twirl (she laughs, it carries with a melodic lilt), and when she’s facing him again, her arms end up looping around his neck. She also ended up with his forehead against his and their noses were bumping and his heart was racing--

“Ooh, real smooth,” she grinned. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Ah, yes, best friend. Hiccup felt a pang in his chest but it didn’t reflect across his face. “Hey,  _hey_  -- what? I can, I can be smooth. I can come up with pick up lines that are infinitely better than anything Snotlout could ever drop. Or Google.”

She laughed in response. “Yeah? Bet you can’t. Try me.”

“Were you the inspiration for the dance theme? Because you’re Fire and Nice.”

It took her a moment to respond -- she even leaned back to look at him, eyes flickering between his own while her lips were parted. Was she aghast? Probably. Astrid slowly shook her head as a smile wormed its way onto her face. “Awful. That was awful.”

(...She called it awful, but the way she pressed her forehead to his and closes her eyes said that she felt otherwise.)


End file.
